


Can't Let The Day Go

by momebie (katilara)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, post-trk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katilara/pseuds/momebie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan knows he does, but he also feels like he needs to relearn Adam every time they see each other again. He’s itching to relearn him now, but he can’t bring himself to move forward. It's the surprise of it shocking him to stillness. Adam here when he shouldn't be. A pleasant surprise, sure, but they didn’t discuss this. They Skyped just two days ago and Adam didn’t mention anything about plane tickets or plans, nothing about sneaking away from his small, overheated dorm room to be here in the mild spring weather with Ronan. Ronan's so happy he can barely breathe.</p>
<p>(Or, Adam takes a long weekend off from school and makes a surprise visit to the Barns.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Let The Day Go

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for TRK!
> 
> I have been thinking about Ronan and the concept of 'true love' since I finished TRK. A longer version of their actual conversation rattles around in my head sometimes, but this is the version that fit this fic, so this is the one I ended up writing. This whole thing is pure, unadulterated domestic fluff with no purpose and I refuse to feel bad about it. 
> 
> Title from 'Love Is All I Am' by Dawes.

It’s early Friday evening and Opal is leaning over a litter of kittens Ronan definitely didn’t know existed ten minutes ago. They're all curled into their mother, happily sucking away. Opal’s thin blond hair is falling into her face and her hands are twitching perilously close to the lone grey one like she wants to snatch it away. 

“Ah ah,” Ronan says. He’s kneeling down behind her, his knee close to where her hoof is kicking idly against the dusty floor of the barn. “Wait until after they've eaten. How would you feel if some giant came by and carried you away during dinner?”

She looks back at him with serious eyes. The shadowy light softens her out, making her look less feral and more sure. Or maybe it's that she’s starting look that way all the time and Ronan hasn't stopped being surprised by it. “You _are_ giant.”

“Not as giant to you as you are to them.” 

She huffs out a breath that makes her hair flutter away from her cheeks and fixes him with the stare she gives him when she really wants something. He raises an eyebrow, settling in for the contest to go on for a while—it lasted an hour once—but she gets distracted by a small knock somewhere in the barn and jerks her head around to peer toward the doors. Ronan smirks, thinking Chainsaw must have distracted her.

A huge grin cuts across Opal’s face. She jumps to her hooves and hops around the kittens before bolting away. “Adam!”

Ronan jerks his head then too and there Adam is. Not Chainsaw, not a diversionary tactic from an eerie dream being, but real and laughing quietly as Opal drags him across the barn, chattering about the kittens. Ronan stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. 

“Parrish,” he says, looking Adam up and down slowly to give his brain time to catch up to this joyous new reality. “You working on that freshman fifteen?” 

“No,” Adam says. “I’ve lost weight and you know it.”

“That seems physically impossible, you didn't have any to spare when I last saw you.” 

A month ago had been Adam’s spring break, when Ronan learned that ‘spring’ is a very loosely defined term in New England. He also learned that college campuses tended to empty out in the same way boarding school campuses did at the first sign of a few days off, so they had the place mostly to themselves and Adam’s room all to themselves. They did a lot of educational things that kept them out of the frigid air. 

“You know my body best,” Adam agrees. 

Ronan knows he does, but he also feels like he needs to relearn Adam every time they see each other again. He’s itching to relearn him now, but he can’t bring himself to move forward. It's the surprise of it shocking him to stillness. Adam here when he shouldn't be. A pleasant surprise, sure, but they didn’t discuss this. They Skyped just two days ago and Adam didn’t mention anything about plane tickets or plans, nothing about sneaking away from his small, overheated dorm room to be here in the mild spring weather with Ronan. Ronan's so happy he can barely breathe. 

“Are you just going to stare at me for three days?” Adam smiles like he knows Ronan could. Ronan’s will melts around it.

“Asshole,” Ronan says. 

He closes the distance between them and loops his arms around Adam’s waist, burying his face in the crook of Adam's neck and inhaling the comforting smell of him. Adam is here for real, wrapping his arms tightly around Ronan, kissing his cheek and holding him fiercely close, like Ronan’s the one who's going to leave again in a few days. 

“Why are you here?” Ronan asks into Adam's shoulder. 

“Wanted to be,” Adam replies into Ronan’s neck. 

“You always want to be.” 

Ronan knows that sounds cocky, but it’s not meant to. It’s merely certain. He's done a lot of work, physically and emotionally, over the previous year to make sure Adam knows he has a home to come back to. To make sure the Barns is comfortable and inviting and some place Adam can view as a refuge instead of a place that is merely geographically too close to Henrietta for comfort. 

“I do, jerk,” Adam says. “But also, my Monday class is cancelled. It’s not a non-class day, but it’s a city holiday and my Lit professor is running the marathon. And my Chem group finished our project, so I had time.”

“What kind of fake fucking New England holiday is—”

“Shut up,” Adam says. “Just be happy I’m here.” He takes Ronan’s face in his hands and kisses him, sweet and hungry. 

Ronan shuts up. 

When they break apart Ronan looks around for Opal. She’s sitting on the ground next to the kittens. She has her hand out, palm up, and is trying to coax the grey kitten over to her. The kitten is stretching its unsteady legs and stumbling in a weaving pattern around its mother. Ronan untangles himself from Adam

“Come on, brat. Time for your own dinner.” He leans over and scoops Opal off the ground. She squeals and kicks her hooves, but doesn’t kick hard enough to hurt him. She’s light as a bird still, no matter how much he feeds her. Ronan tosses her over his shoulder and heads out of the barn and back up to the house. 

Adam follows behind them until they get to the steps. He rushes up those first, picks up his duffel from where he’d left it on the porch, and opens the door to let them in. Opal is squirming, mostly for show, but Adam narrowly avoids being kicked in the chin as they pass. He closes the door behind them and drops his duffel next to it. 

Ronan sets Opal down onto the tile in the kitchen. She stamps her hooves with several dull clicks. “Go wash your hands,” he says. “You’re filthy.” She stamps her hooves again and pouts. 

“If you wash your hands,” Adam says, “I’ll give you the present I brought you.” 

This gets her attention. She tilts her head to study him in the same way Chainsaw does. “What is it?” 

“Can’t tell you until you wash up. If I do, it’ll disappear.” 

“No it won’t,” she says. “It would have to be magic to do that.” 

“You think this is the only place with magic?” 

Ronan can tell she’s not sure. She, like Ronan himself, believes that Adam can do or make literally anything. Really, the only person who doesn't believe that is Adam, but Ronan knows he’s getting there. Opal crosses her arms. Adam crosses his. Ronan leans back against the counter to watch. 

Finally, Opal says, “whatever”, and flounces out of the kitchen. 

Adam watches her go, then he closes the space between them and crowds Ronan up against the counter’s edge. “She’s picking up your bad habits.” 

“She is a bad habit,” Ronan says. He slips his hands into the back pockets of Adam’s jeans and holds him so that they’re pressed together. There’s no urgency in it. He’s not going to push it here in the kitchen before dinner, but he’s reveling in the closeness and warmth, in being able to touch Adam and hold him instead of just look at him through his laptop screen. 

Adam kisses Ronan's jaw, then his cheek, then his lips. It’s lazy and slow, like they have all the time in the world, and it almost tricks Ronan’s heart into believing they do. When Adam pulls back he presses his forehead to Ronan’s. 

“How did you get here from the airport?” Ronan asks. 

“Maura picked me up. She wanted to talk about some psychic things and offered to do it on the way so I didn’t have to head in to Henrietta for real. But you’re taking me back.”

“Oh, am I? What if I just decide to hold you hostage?”

“You wouldn’t,” Adam says, because he knows Ronan’s just as invested in his happiness as Adam is in his education being a part of that. 

“I wouldn’t,” Ronan agrees. He pushes Adam back so that he can step away from counter and gives him one last squeeze a quick kiss before letting go. “What do you want to eat?”

~*~

On Saturday, Ronan wakes up to the sun streaming in through his window and Adam tucked up into his side. He wishes he could wake up this way every morning, wishes he could keep the sky clear and Adam close. He knows there’ll be a day when he’ll be able to do at least one of those things, so for now he settles for closing his eyes and looping an arm over Adam’s waist.

Adam groans and rolls over so that he can push his face into the pillow. “Is the sun already up?” 

“The sun was up an hour ago. You’re just a lazy asshole.” 

“‘m I keeping you from somethin’?” Adam asks, accent careless in his half awake state. “Have important farm business you need to be takin’ care of?” 

Ronan does, actually. He was planning on working on the goat pens today and trying to go through his father’s financial records. Not that he thinks they’ll make sense, just to get a feel for what running the farm was like when it was actually being run. He should probably call Declan, but even though things have been better on that front lately, they still don’t quite know how to talk to each other. It’s still not easy. Not like this. 

“Nothing that won’t still be there Tuesday.” 

“Sorry, should have said somethin’ about comin’ down, probably.” Adam yawns. “I just got excited about being able to surprise you for once.” 

_You never stop surprising me_ , Ronan thinks. He says, “I’m just going to put you to work. Hope you brought your muck boots.” 

Adam grins and opens his eyes finally. He looks up at Ronan from under the fringe of his light hair and pale eyelashes, blue eyes bright. It’s a sight on par with any sunrise Ronan’s ever seen break over the fields. “Y’know, I left those in Boston.”

Warm fondness washes through Ronan. “What good could they possibly do you there? You change your major to hippie fucking farm shares while I wasn’t looking?” 

“Snow,” is all Adam says in reply. 

Ronan grunts, because fuck snow. He sits up, pulling his arm out from under Adam, and stretches. “I guess we can leave off the mucking then. You want coffee? Anything to eat?”

Adam curls around Ronan and leaves a wet kiss on his hip just above the band of his boxer briefs. “Coffee would be great. I’m gonna shower.” 

“Mi casa es your castle,” Ronan says, and climbs over Adam to get out of the bed. Adam wraps his arms around Ronan’s empty pillow and mumbles something about princesses into it while Ronan pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

Out in the hallway he stops and listens to the sounds of the house. Opal is moving around in Matthew’s old room down the hall. Outside there are birds calling to one another. Otherwise things are quiet, as if the world is waiting for him to properly start the day before it follows suit. 

Down in the kitchen he puts on a pot of coffee and eats two bowls of cereal while waiting for Adam. He opens up his laptop to find he has three new emails. One is from Matthew, just a link to some YouTube video he wants Ronan to watch. The other two are from Gansey, the first a long ramble about the latest leg of their trip and the second merely says _why don’t you ever answer your facetime? :(((_

It’s absurd for Gansey to expect Ronan to answer anything on his phone anyway, but when he finds it under the couch cushion and checks it he sees that the call came through at about midnight. He and Adam had been long occupied up in his bedroom by then. He spares an amused moment to think about what the look on Gansey’s face might have been if he had answered, his lips on Adam’s hip bone, both of them flushed and comfortably, carelessly vocal. 

“What is that look for?” Adam asks. 

He’s at the foot of the stairs, feet bare and hair damp, wearing his own jeans and one of Ronan’s old band t-shirts. Ronan expects it’ll disappear back to college with Adam at the end of the weekend. The thought of Adam wearing his clothing up there with all those people who don’t know pleases him. 

“Gansey’s pulling an internet sulk because I didn’t answer his call last night.” 

“Yeah, he tried me too. Sent a text this morning asking if we were dead.” 

“So many little deaths,” Ronan says, and he’s unable to keep the filthy smirk off his face. 

Adam gives him an indulgent, lopsided grin. “I smell coffee, but I don’t see coffee.” 

Fifteen minutes later, after Adam’s had some cereal and they’ve both watched Matthew’s video of the fainting goats a few times, Opal comes crashing down the stairs and into the kitchen. She’s wearing the new skull cap Adam brought her. It’s red with a white H embroidered into it and Ronan’s come to the conclusion that it might actually be magic, because it got her to take off the old black one long enough for Ronan to throw it in the wash. 

Chainsaw flutters in after Opal and lands on Adam’s shoulder. Adam makes a soft ‘ _oo_ f’ noise, but doesn’t shrug her off. Instead he absently reaches up to run a finger under her beak. “I forgot how heavy you are.” 

“How do you feel about going for a walk?” Ronan asks. Three heads swivel to look up at him. 

“A walk?” Adam asks. “Like, the outdoor activity kind?” 

“We used to walk outside all the time with Gansey and you never once questioned it.”

“Yes,” Adam says, drawing the word out, still not accepting the explanation. 

“Alright, fine, and I need to check the back perimeter fence.” 

“There it is.” Adam stands and puts his bowl and mug in the sink. Opal pulls the bowl out again and drinks the milk from it before putting it back. Adam watches, his nose wrinkled in disgust. He shakes his head. “I’ll go put on shoes.”

~*~

They spend most of Sunday working on the damage they found in the perimeter fence the day before. Opal brings the grey kitten to help her inspect the area for interesting rocks or insects, but she eventually gets bored with that and starts racing Chainsaw back and forth in ever lengthening distances.

“She’s surprisingly nimble through the underbrush,” Adam says, as they trudge back up the house. He looks as tired as Ronan feels. It’s a contented sort of tired.

Adam has his shirt off and looped over the back of his neck. His cheeks and shoulders are tinted red from a day in the sun. He’s thin and he probably wasn’t lying about having lost weight, but he carries himself with his back straight and his head held high. It’s a marvel to Ronan how much stronger Adam seems every time he sees him, how there’s so much room for more strength and becoming in both of them. 

“She can almost keep up with the deer.” 

“Hmm,” Adam replies. 

He digs around in the back pocket of his jeans and pulls his phone out. Ronan watches his fingers flick over the screen, quick and familiar. Adam’s a fast study in all things, but it took him quite a while to become comfortable with those things he always saw as extravagances. Of course, keeping in touch with everyone, far flung as they all are, is a necessity, so technology won out in the end. 

“Gansey wants to know if we can Skype.” 

“Now?” 

Adam shrugs and wipes his face with his shirt. 

“Yeah, whatever. Tell him to give us twenty minutes.” 

By the time Adam and Ronan have their shirts back on and have set the laptop up on the coffee table in the sitting room, Opal and the kitten are curled up in front of the television with a blanket draped across the both of them. Chainsaw is perched on the fireplace mantle across the room. They all have their eyes closed, which means none of them are watching the cartoons Opal demanded they put on.

When the connection goes through it’s Henry’s face that comes up. Well, his hair mostly. He’s leaning close to the camera so that he takes up the whole screen. “Lynch! Parrish!” he shouts. “You’re not dead!” He pulls away and they can see that he’s installed in a diner booth. The plastic behind his shoulders is a glittering red that would look better on a ‘54 Impala. There’s an Elvis song playing faintly in the background. 

“Not yet, Cheng,” Ronan drawls. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Adam elbows him in the ribs and Ronan pushes him back. “Henry,” Adam says. “Where are you?” 

Henry looks around him as if he’s just realizing he’s anywhere at all. “French Canada. Definitely French somewhere and I’m pretty sure we’re still in North America. Quebec?”

“You don’t know?”

“I wasn’t driving,” he says, defensive. 

Blue’s head pokes into frame and she pushes Henry over in the booth. Her hair is longer and her cheeks are pink. The road is agreeing with her. “To be fair to Henry, he’s been asleep for the last ten hours at least. His delicate Aglionby stomach can’t hang with the real world.”

“Food poisoning knows no class,” Henry says seriously. 

Blue rolls her eyes. “Hey guys. Adam, we didn’t know you were going to be there.” 

“Neither did Ronan,” Adam says. 

“Adam has always been a man of mystery,” Gansey says. His head pops up over Blue and Henry's shoulders from the bench behind them and he looks the same as he always does. He drapes his arms over the seat back. 

Adam gives the three of them a wide smile and Ronan’s attention gets caught on it. Adam’s eyes are bright in the glow from the screen and his laugh rolls out easy. Ronan’s missed whatever was said that made him laugh because he’s too wrapped up in how this Adam, the Adam that he can call _his_ , is so much _more_ than the Adam he knew even a year ago. Not that Adam had been a small thing then, but he’d been trying to be and it never suited him. This suits him, happiness suits him. 

“Lynch, if you stare at him any harder you’re going to burn a hole in the side of his pretty head,” Henry says. 

Adam laughs again. “Fuck off," he says, tone friendly. 

Ronan flips the screen the bird and leans into Adam, aggressively leaving sloppy kisses down his jaw and neck. 

“Get a room!” Blue shouts. Her voice is tinged with glee, affected by the same urgency they’re all affected by now, affected by how they almost didn’t have this. 

_This, this, this_ , is all Ronan thinks as he grabs Adam’s hand and possessively licks at his jaw for show. 

“Ugh,” Adam says, wiping at the spit with his shoulder. “Do any of you need a puppy? He’s not house trained.” 

“I’ll pass,” Henry says. “It’s all we can do to keep Dick here from marking his territory right across the northern hemisphere.” 

“You piss in the woods one time,” Gansey says. 

Blue holds up her hands. “Six times.” 

“Why haven’t you guys made it to Vegas yet?” Ronan asks. “The first place I’d go is Vegas.”

“I did ask them to marry me,” Henry says in mock aggrievement, “but they don’t seem to be taking me seriously.” 

“I don’t guess Blue is the marrying kind,” Adam says. 

“Yeah,” Ronan adds, “but Gansey is.” 

“Gansey is right here,” Gansey says.

“Taunting me,” Henry cries in dramatic misery. “With his calves. And his ankles peeking over the tops of those dumb little half socks he always wears. And his shoes.” 

“He’s taunting us all with his shoes,” Blue says. “He’s taunting my lighter the most.” 

“I’m still _right here_.” 

Blue breaks into giggles first. She tilts her head and Gansey leans over the seat back to kiss her. 

“Get a room!” Ronan shouts in a high voice, mimicking Blue. Chainsaw ruffles her feathers and snaps at them for being too loud. 

Henry looks off screen and nods a few times before saying, “oui ma’am, pardon.” He pokes Blue in the side. “Looks like we’re going to have to cut the conference call short, kids. The Québécois are a delicate species who are easily startled by loud noises and gross displays of public affection.” 

“You didn’t think it was gross last niiiiight,” Blue sing songs. 

Adam laughs. “You’re all gross all the time”

Blue gives him a wide, genuine smile. “Love you guys. Talk to you later.” 

“Love you too,” Adam says. 

The phrase is light in his mouth, as if it has always been there, as if it wasn’t hard won. They all know better. Gansey looks from Blue to Henry to the computer and beams at them from across the internet. His family, almost a thousand miles apart, but still here together. Ronan’s finally beginning understand what that look really means. 

It takes them another five minutes to say proper goodbyes. By the time Ronan finally gets the laptop shut down Adam is leaning back against the couch with his hands in his lap and his eyes closed. Ronan pulls his knees up, tucks his feet under him, and leans into Adam, resting his head on Adam’s shoulder. 

“They look like they’re having fun,” Adam says. 

“They are.” 

“Do you wish you’d gone with them?” 

“God no,” Ronan says. 

“That was quick. You make it sound like it’s not fun at all.” 

Ronan’s not opposed to the idea of the open road, but now whenever he thinks about adventures he could be having he’s not there by Gansey’s side in the way he used to be. Now he’s with a different part of his family, the part currently lazing away a Sunday evening in the home he’s slowly putting back together. 

“You’re not with them,” he says. 

“I had other plans.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” 

Adam takes several deep breaths and moves a hand to Ronan’s thigh. “I know.” 

Ronan places his hand on Adam’s and squeezes it. Then he stands up. “Come outside?”

Adam looks up. He lets Ronan pull him off the couch and lead him out of the house. He follows as Ronan ambles across the front lawn and climbs up onto one of the low sheds. Then they’re sitting there, legs dangling over the edge, fingers tangled together, watching the sun set over the rolling Virginia hills. 

Ronan sits quietly and listens, taking the pulse of his home and this moment. There are crickets singing all around them. A light breeze is ruffling the leaves of the plum trees near the driveway. Adam’s breath is even. Everything is as it should be. 

The sky goes from orange to red to purple before either of them speaks. Adam’s voice is quiet when he says, “did you ever believe in that true love thing?”

A year and a half ago this question would have enraged Ronan. Nine months ago it might have worried him. Now he knows it’s merely a question, just Adam still trying to feel out his place in the world. He squeezes Adam’s hand. “I didn’t know about it, remember?”

Adam squeezes his hand back. “No, not Gansey and Blue specifically. Just in general, you know? It seems implausible, right? The idea that one person might mean everything to you?” 

“No,” Ronan says, “it really doesn’t.” 

Adam turns his head to look at him and Ronan keeps his gaze steadily on the horizon. He wishes he could see himself through Adam’s eyes. He wishes he could see Adam through Adam’s eyes. Then he might be able to help ease him through some of these growing pains. They’ve all had enough pain to last them the rest of their lives. It’s time for something else now. 

“I guess I just still don’t know what to do with it, you know?” 

“With what?”

“This.” Adam picks up their hands and tilts them from side to side in the air. “Everyone I know at school is scrambling to find this. Or at least, they say they are, but it never seems to be what they want. And I just, I’ve always felt different. I still feel different. I feel lucky, but also like maybe having so much so soon means I have more to lose than them.” 

Ronan looks at him finally. “You can’t lose me, Adam. I’m not your car keys.” 

Adam huddles down a bit, slipping back into his old defensive posture. “I know. I’m not saying it’s you. I’m not saying you’re going anywhere.” 

“Good,” Ronan says. “Because I’m not, and neither are you. It doesn’t matter what true means to anyone else. It doesn’t matter that those pretentious fucks don’t know what they want. It doesn’t matter because you’re mine, okay? And I don’t let shit go.” 

Adam grins at him and sits up a little straighter. “I might have heard that about you.”

“Good,” Ronan says. “Now that’s enough of that shit. Less worrying and feelings, more making the most of this.” 

“What?” Adam asks. “This shed roof?” 

“Yeah.” Ronan slides his free hand up under Adam’s shirt, fingers running across the smooth skin and sparse hair on his stomach. “This shed roof.” 

“What will the deer think?” Adam says, but he grabs a handful of Ronan’s shirt and lays back against the warm metal, dragging Ronan down with him. 

“Shut up,” Ronan says, and kisses Adam slow and dirty. 

Adam shuts up.

~*~

They’re not supposed to be parked in the drop off lane at the airport. An attendant has already come by to fuss at them, but Chainsaw swooped in and drove her off for a while. The four of them are currently a tangle. Adam and Ronan with their arms around each other and their cheeks together, clinging. Opal with her arms around Adam’s waist and her cheek against the small of his back, also clinging. Chainsaw perched on Adam’s shoulder, pressed up against the non-Ronan side of his neck.

Ronan knows he needs to let go. Not just because the next attendant who comes by will probably be prepared for an aerial attack, but because Adam has a plane to catch and a life to get back to. Adam has so many things to do before he can be the version of Adam who comes home to stay, curiosity sated and future won. Ronan has so much work to do on the Barns and himself before there’s a home for that Adam to stay in. And still, the idea of letting Adam go feels like ruin. It feels like Adam’s going to take his heart with him when he goes. Like he’ll be left empty. He doesn’t miss feeling empty. 

“Summer’s so soon,” Adam says. “I’ll be back in two weeks. Then you’ll have so much of me you’ll get sick on it.” He squeezes Ronan hard and then pulls away. Ronan let’s him go. 

Adam unwraps Opal’s arms from his waist and turns to face her, dropping to his knee. “Keep this one clean,” he says, tapping at the red cap still pulled low on her head. “I’m inspecting it when I come back.” 

“You shouldn’t leave,” she says, in a small voice that’s an echo of the voice in Ronan’s head. _Don’t go, don’t go. Don’t stay away._

“I have to leave. But I’ll bring you another present when I come back, okay?”

Opal nods and leans in to kiss his cheek. He puts his hand over it as if to trap it there and then kisses his fingers and uses them to tap her nose. She laughs and holds her hands out to collect Chainsaw when Adam hands her off. 

He stands up again with his duffel bag in hand. “Lynch,” he says. 

“Parrish,” Ronan says back, already bracing for the pull of the distance. 

Adam smiles and Ronan’s will melts around it. He leans in and kisses Adam again. Someone a few cars away wolf whistles and they both flick them off without breaking the kiss. When Ronan finally does pull back he pushes Adam’s chest. “Go on,” he says. “I don’t want to hear you bitch about the cost of the transfer ticket if you miss this flight.” 

“Hey, even kids with full scholarships need to eat.” 

“Yes, you do, asshole. Do more of that.” He points over Adam’s shoulder toward the airport doors. “Now get.” 

Adam smirks at him. “Love you too,” he says, easy like that’s all there is to it. That’s all there is to it. Adam turns to head off, ruffling Opal’s hair on his way by. Ronan pulls out his phone to check the time, already counting down the minutes to May.

**Author's Note:**

> Things I looked up while writing this: 1) Facetime, because what is technology? 2) Harvard's holiday schedule. It didn't list Patriot's Day. How can they not get Patriot's Day? Someone should let me know if they do. 3) The distance from Harrisonburg, VA (my personal real world Henrietta stand in) to Quebec City.
> 
> I have [a tumblr](http://charmingpplincardigans.tumblr.com/) if you want to discuss this or any other random information.


End file.
